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"These are tears of happiness." I sniffle. "I didn’t think I could be this at peace. This content. When I'm with you, I'm not running, not searching, not seeking. When I’m with you, I’m not looking outside anymore, for everything I need is right here in front of me. It’s in you"—I place my hand over his heart—"and I see you even more clearly. I was always attracted to you, but now I see your faults, and—"
"And?" he asks, a note of caution in his voice.
"And I want you even more. I love you even more. I need you so much that when you’re not with me, the loss of you is a physical ache that I can’t bear. I used to think this kind of love could only be found in romance novels, but now, I know better. I used to think that having five orgasms in one night was something only book boyfriends could provide—"
"But?" His lips curl in a satisfied smile.
"But… I know my real-life, marriage-of-convenience husband turned love-of-my-life can do one better." It’s true! His speed on the ice is matched only by his speed between the sheets. His thrust on the rink is overshadowed by the force with which he takes me every single time. The heat we generate could easily melt a sheet of ice. The glacier around his heart had no chance. A-n-d this is what happens when you’re in love with an ex-marine who is first and foremost a hockey guy at heart; your metaphors get influenced by the game.
"I’ll take that as a compliment…and a challenge." His smile grows wicked. "I’ll have to do one better next time."
I pale. "What? No. As it is, one night with you and I can feel you inside me for the next few days."
"Only days?" His expression grows resolute. "Gonna have to up the ante to seven."
"Seven orgasms?" A bead of sweat runs down my spine. "Five’s good. Honest."
"Eight then?" His smirk grows broader.
My pussy clenches, the still sensitive bud of my clit spasming in recollection. Last night, on the way here on his private jet, he wouldn’t stop. He rubbed the most intimate parts of me, then hooked his fingers inside me, and demanded I come over and over again. And I did. Not that I had a choice. Moisture drips down my thighs, and my toes curl.
"No, please, I won’t be able to."
"Nine," he drawls.
"Stop, Rick. I can’t."
"You can, and I’m not gonna stop until we hit a flawless finish, a perfect ten. That’s a good, round number, don’t you think?"
"This isn't the Olympics, Rick," I chide him.
"Isn't it?" He winks.
Those fires under the surface of my skin, that are never too far away when he’s around, instantly ignite. "I think you’re going to wear me out."
"I’ll be doing all the work. All you have to do is give in and enjoy. Surrender to my ministrations, allow me to position your body any way I want, let me touch you all over, and kiss you, and show you how much I love you. And then…"
"Then?" I whimper.
"Come when I command."
"Jesus." I press closer to him. "Who’d have thought the Stone had a penchant for poetic declarations of love, as well as for talking dirty?"
"It’s your influence. Only with you, can I let go and show who I truly am."
"Same." I throw my arms around him and hug him. "I love you."
"I love you, Goldie." He tucks my chin under his head.
“We have much to thank your sister for,” I murmur.
He stills. “We do?”
“It’s because of Diana that we met.”
He draws in a sharp breath. For a few seconds he stays silent, then I sense him nod. “You’re right. It’s thanks to Diana I found you, the love of my life. Maybe I was led to you, not so I could seek vengeance, but so I could find happiness. So I could release the guilt I’ve carried around for so long. It’s as if, in bringing you into my life, my sister was providing me with the gift of hope. So I wouldn't focus on the misery of losing her. I think she, too, is letting go. Now that I finally opened up my eyes.” I hear him swallow. “I think she’s finally at peace.”
I tighten my arms about his waist. “Iknowshe is.”
